Charisma
by Salem Merciolago
Summary: Zexion is a depressed teen with no friends. Demyx is a bubbly guitarist who had to leave his first love, Zanzi, to move to a completely different town. What happens when Demyx meets Zexion...who looks almost exactly like Zanzi? BoyxBoy
1. Chapter 1

Charisma.

Okay, so this is my first upload on here. Read, review, and shoot me down. Watch out for language, boys' love, and possibly mature themes later on. ~Salem

**Chapter One: Zexion's POV**

I woke up to the heavy beat of drums blaring out of my stereo speakers. I guess I left it on all night. My dad wasn't going to be too happy about that.

I dragged myself out of bed, still in yesterday's clothes. I changed quickly, then turned off my music, listening for any sign of my dad upstairs. There came none, so I grabbed my backpack and crept out the back door as quietly as I could.

It was raining when I got outside, but the bus stop was close, so it wasn't so bad. I huddled under the small shelter, waiting for the bus to arrive. Thunder rolled in the distance.

_What an uneventful day, _I thought. _Let's just hope it stays that way._

The pulled up then, jarring me out of my thoughts. I got on, preparing myself for another

boring day at school.

The ride to school was nice and uneventful, just like I had hoped. I managed to get into school and my classroom without too much crap from the other students.

I plunked myself down in my chair, and proceeded to trace the wood pattern on my desk, dutifully not listening to the teacher. I was having a fine time, when _he_ walked in. He being the one person who managed to kill my perfectly uneventful day with his very presence.

"Class, this is Demyx. He just transferred here from Traverse Town, so let's make him feel welcome, " the teacher said. I looked up in curiosity, and just about shot myself.

This kid looked like a total idiot. He was tall, skinny, and sported this crazy light-brown mullet. He got some credit for his band t-shirt and red jeans, but then entered the negative zone as I notice the Pikachu backpack. That, and the fact that he was soaked.

_Wow, he is going to get extremely annoying, I can tell. It looks like an eight-year-old possessed the body of a teenager, _I thought. I sighed. Of all the places in the world, why did he move here?

The new kid sat in the empty seat next to Axel, the two of them immediately befriending each other. To turn my attention away from him, I tried actually listening to the teacher.

"Alright, now that that's settled, who can tell me the answer to this question. A multicellular living thing is called a what?" She said, and I shot my hand up for the heck of it. The teacher scanned the room, and I waved my hand a bit in the air. Her eyes landed on the new kid and Axel chatting, and my heart sank. She was going to call on them. And I was the one who actually knew the answer. I practically jumped out of my seat trying to get her to call on me. I needed a sign or something.

"Demyx! Since you seem to know the answer, why don't you tell all of us, " she said sweetly, an evil glint in her eyes. Demyx stared up at her in surprise and blushed.

"Um...uh...eukaryote?" He guessed, a wildly hopeful expression on his face. I collapsed into my seat, shocked and pissed beyond reason. How in the hell did he do that? The teacher obviously wondered that too, because she simply nodded and continued teaching.

I glared at the back of his head, hoping he could feel my gaze. I decided that I did not like him very much at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Demyx's POV**

I woke up with my face pressed against the cold glass of my new window, right where I had fallen asleep. I yawned and stretched, rubbing my sore neck.

Moving was hard. It was especially hard if you had to leave a ton of super cool friends and a rock band behind. Thinking about it made me depressed, so I proceeded to ignore all that and searched through some boxes for an outfit to wear. I found one of my band t-shirts and put it on, along with some loose, red-washed skinny jeans.

I grabbed my backpack and my shoes, almost falling down the stairs trying to put it all on. I shoved half a candy bar in my mouth for breakfast, checked my hair to make sure it wasn't crazy, and opened the front door.

Not paying attention, I stepped outside, immediately getting drenched.

"Crap! Why must it rain today? Why?" I complained loudly, glaring up at the sky and receiving a faceful of water. I sighed heavily. I was running to school today.

By the time I got to the school, I was soaked. Mega-soaked. Fall-in-the-Ocean soaked. Not a great way to start off.

I trudged into my new class, sopping wet, uncomfortable, and nervous. The teacher was nice, though, and told me to go sit a red-haired guy named Axel. I did so, leaning away from him slightly as I tried not to get him, the desk, and everything else wet.

"So...new kid, huh?" He asked. He had a nice, smooth sort of voice.

I nodded glumly, pushing a lock of hair back up to where it belonged as it flopped in my face.

"What'd you do, fall in a puddle on the way here?" He teased. I laughed half-heartedly.

"Try the ocean, " I replied, blushing. Axel grinned kindly.

"If you want, I have some extra clothes in my gym locker if you want to borrow them. Might up your standings a bit with the people in this school, " he offered. I grinned widely.

"Thanks! That's really nice of you, " I said, almost exploding with happiness.

"No prob. "

""Demyx! Since you seem to know the answer, why don't you tell all of us, " the teacher said suddenly, and I whipped around to look at her. Terrified, I gave her the first thing that had popped into my head.

"Um...uh...eukaryote?" I attempted hopefully. The teacher stared at me in shock and confusion, then nodded and just kept teaching. I sat back in my chair, completely thrown for a loop. Axel gave me a Look that said, oh-my-god-how-do-you-do-it? He glanced over his shoulder suddenly, then leaned in toward me.

"Hey, I don't wanna alarm you, but the class emo is glaring daggers at you, " he whispered, gesturing with his eyes. I snuck a peek in that direction. He really was glaring up a storm to rival the one outside.

"Who? And why is glaring at me so hatefully?" I asked, confused.

"Kid with the blue-gray hair. His name is Zexion, and he probably hates you for being so lucky on that answer. He's an insufferable know-it-all, and very anti-social, " Axel explained. I chuckled lightly.

"Heh...he's pretty cute, " I said, daring to glance over there again. Axel shook his head.

"Oh sure, he's damn sexy. But he really doesn't like people, so I wouldn't go after him. There's better in this school, " he replied. I just shrugged.

"He reminds me of my...friend from back home. I broke his shield down and got inside, and I am pretty sure I can do it to Ze...Zexion, right? Yeah. Shouldn't be any different, " I said softly, thinking about my so-called friend from back home. In reality, he was my ex, but I wasn't about to say that to someone I had just met. It was dumb luck that Axel hadn't freaked out when I let the cute comment slip. My thoughts began to run away with me, and I shook my head to get rid of them, effectively getting water _everywhere_. I cringed at the look I got from Axel.

"Sorry...disturbing thought there, " I said, grinning uneasily. Axel grinned back easily.

"S'okay, just remember to shake disturbing thoughts from your mind when your hair is dry, hm?" He replied, teasing again. I blushed and nodded, grateful to have made a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Zexion's POV**

I walked into the locker room for gym, and almost walked right back out.

That new kid, the total freak, the complete smartass, was standing there, shirtless, and wearing _very_ tight black jeans.

I hurried to my locker, keeping my head down, more than a little miffed as I admitted to myself that no matter how freakish he was, he looked damn hot in those jeans. I shook my head to get rid of that sickening thought and the blush that threatened to erupt.

Without looking around to tell, I felt him brush past me as he left, the scent of Drakar floating over me as he did so. I slammed my locker shut angrily, tense.

"Hey there, Zexi, " Axel purred from behind me, making me jump.

"God dammit Axel! Don't do that!" I snapped, ready to punch someone in the face.

"Don't do what? Scare you, or call you Zexi?" He said innocently. I rolled my eyes and exhaled sharply.

"Both. Now leave me alone, " I ordered, and pushed past him to go to the gym. Dressing out was too much work today. Axel followed me persistently. I ignored him pointedly, settling myself in a corner. I saw Lexaeus give me a questioning look from a few yards away. He was an alright person, mainly because he didn't talk. I glanced at Axel and huffed my hair out of my face. Lex nodded knowingly, and wandered away.

"C'mon, Zexi. Don't be so cold! You used to love me, remember?" Axel said, a hint of a whine entering his voice. I glared at him.

"I never loved you. I made that clear, always. You just deluded yourself into thinking I did, and I played along to get you to shut up. How many times to I have to break up with you, Axel?" I replied acidly. I hoped that hurt his feelings. From the look on his face, it did. Score for me.

"Ouch, man. That's not cool, " he said, sounding a bit pissed off now. "This is why you don't have any friends. You scare them all away. "

I shrugged.

"Who needs friends?" I asked softly. Before Axel had a chance to answer, the teacher blew his whistle to start class. Everyone else ran to gather around, but I snuck out into the hallway, fed up with everything, especially class.

I walked a bit through the hallways, eventually ending up at the sodapop machines. I sat in between them, welcoming the steady, numbing hum they emitted. That, mixed with the shoosh of the rain, soon sent me into a sleep-like stupor, my head resting against the pop machine. This state was short-lived, however, as it was interrupted by a familiar, and annoying voice.

"Hey. What're you doing out here?"

I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see the face of that voice, and didn't answer in hopes of keeping myself detached from the world.

Unfortunately, this voice was persistent and whiny and wasn't going let me off easily.

"I _said_, hey! You awake?"


	4. Chapter 4

(Still Zexion's POV)

I groaned softly and opened my eyes just barely enough to glare at him.

"No, I am _not_ awake. Go back to class, " I hissed. The new kid pouted at me pathetically.

"_That's _no way to treat people, " he snipped, and leaned against one pop machine.

"_That_ is the way _I_ treat people. Go. Away!" I growled, pulling my knees up to my chest-my number one defensive position.

The kid continued to pout for a moment, then brightened.

"You wanna soda?" He asked. I stared at him. This idiot, like, didn't get mad. Anyone else would've stormed off by now. It kind of threw me off. I was used to just pissing people off and them just leaving.

"No. The machines are off, stupid, " I grumbled. In truth, I really did crave a soda, but as the machines were off during school hours, no dice.

The idiot grinned smugly.

"Ha, off...haha, that's hilarious. Being off isn't going to stop me, " he said. "And my name's Demyx, not 'stupid'."

"Coulda fooled me..." I breathed, closing my eyes again. _Just go away..._I thought.

"Which soda do you want?"

Did this idiot ever quit? He was relentless.

"Foudre, " I replied, deciding to humor him. I heard a jangle, and the pop machine jerked suddenly, my eyes flying open to see him standing there, a keyring in one hand and the pop machine open to reveal rows and rows of pop. He winked at me and pulled out a Foudre for me and a sQuash for himself. He closed the pop machine carefully and locked it with a funny looking key. He tossed me the Foudre and snapped open the sQuash.

I opened my Foudre slowly, staring at him.

"Where'd you get those keys?" I asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"My friend Sixa was a sneaky kid. He gave me one before I moved here as a good-bye present. I guess it finally came in handy, " he said, taking a sip of his pop.

"Huh..."

I took a long drink of Foudre, relishing the sour, fizzy taste. He glanced at me.

"How can you drink that?" He said suddenly. "It's all sour...and like, super fizzy."

"Same way you can drink that, " I drawled. "SQuash is too sugary. Although, sugar seems to be your lifeline."

The kid laughed, a bubbly sound.

"Man, you're depressin' me!" He exclaimed, not sounding depressed at all. "You sound just like my friend Zanzi. He was a mean, cynical bastard, too. "

I rolled my eyes and sucked down the rest of my soda, uncomfortable with this idiot comparing me to his idiot friends.

I stared at my empty bottle almost regrettably, wishing I had saved some. All of a sudden, I noticed the idiot staring at me with a strange sort of look on his face. I glared back.

"Quit creepin' on me, man. It's weird, " I said, choking down the blush that again threatened to bloom. Sometimes, I really wish I had a keypad that controlled my body. That way embarrassing things like blushing couldn't happen without my permission.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was creepin', " he replied, chuckling softly. "It's just so uncanny...you look like him, act like him. It's giving me a weird feeling..."

I chucked my Foudre bottle at the opposite it, hitting it with a hollow thunk. The bell rang before either one of us could say anything more, effectively breaking the tense atmosphere.

"Oh crap! My teacher's probably super mad, " the idiot moaned. "I guess I'm gonna have to tell her that I got attacked by mermaid ninjas and drowned in the drinking fountain. "

He waved a hasty farewell and ran off, leaving me sitting there in between the pop machines, staring at the empty pop bottle across the hall, and wondering why I couldn't have just had a normal, uneventful day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four: Demyx's POV**

The day passed by so quickly, it felt like a dream. I had actually held a conversation with Zexion! I felt proud of myself for that.

To be honest, he really wasn't all that different from Zanzi, and I had been able gotten under Zanzi's skin. They were both short and emo and skinny and mean. The even looked alike, except Zanzi had longer, lighter hair.

It had stopped raining during the day, so there were plenty of awesome puddles to jump in. I liked to jump in puddles while I thought about things. Back home, Zanzi would tag along sometimes, and he'd walk a little ways behind me, the two of us discussing whatever came to mind.

I jumped in a shallow puddle, looking down at my broken reflection. I missed him.

I kept jumping, and thinking, relishing each splash I made. I glanced ahead a bit, seeing the most perfect thinking puddle ever: a very wide, very deep one that I could make a colossal splash with, and afterward just stand in, letting the water seep into my shoes as I contemplated a particularly deep thought.

I readied myself, deciding on the thought I would contemplate. I chose to think about what I could do to get Zexion to warm up to me, what I could do to break down his shield. I tensed, ran, and just KABLAMMED that puddle! A wry grin spread across my face, a small giggle escaping. _That was swee~t_, I thought giddily.

I heard a heavy sigh that blew away the giddiness, replacing it with stark realization. I looked up slowly to see a very disgruntled, very wet, and very emo-looking Zexion giving me the exact same look Zanzi would when he got splashed: you big fucking dork.

I blushed like crazy, immediately feeling bad.

"Oh! Zexion! Shit, I'm sorry! I wasn't looking!" I stammered, searching for a way to make this better.

"No, no, this is exactly what I needed today, " Zexion replied sarcastically. "Icing on the cake, it is."

"I really am sorry, " I whimpered. "I completely spaced out, totally didn't see you. Please don't think I did that on purpose!"

Zexion just heaved another sigh and looked pointedly down at his soaked shoes.

"Yep. Icing on the cake."

I shuffled my feet a bit in the puddle, swishing the water around. I couldn't do anything right today.

"How come you're jumping in these damn puddles anyway?" He continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets and glaring up at me through his thick bangs.

"It helps me think. My friend and I would do that a lot, and he'd give me that exact same look when I accidentally splashed, " I explained shyly. A glimmer of amusement flashed across Zexion's face.

"What look?"

"The 'you're-such-a-fucking-dork' look, " I said, slightly surprised to see some emotion in this kid's face. Maybe this shell was going to be tougher to crack than Zanzi's was, and I spent a whole year on his.

"Really? Cuz that's not exactly what was going through my mind when you splashed me, " he said in a cool tone that reminded me of ice.

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of..." Zexion glanced down at the pavement uncomfortably. "I wasn't thinking of anything."

I was taken aback by his sudden fragility. In an instant, all of his snappy attitude was gone, all of his tough glamour, revealing a melancholy boy who's really just made of glass.

"I've seen that look before, " I said softly, seriously.

Zexion's eyes flicked up to glare at me, in a very challenging sort of way.

"What look?" He demanded, the attitude and glamour back instantly.

"The look that begs, 'don't break me', " I countered, not happy with his easy denial. He turned to walk away from me.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

My anger flared suddenly, and I grabbed his skinny wrist, proceeding to pull him toward my house, ignoring his vehement protests.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here it is-chapter six. I want to take a moment to explain: I made Demyx not as bubbly in this because of two reasons- 1) I see him as sort of a complacent dreamer in this, because I think that deep down, he truly is a thoughtful character, deep and mysterious as the water he represents. Plus, Zanzi and Zexion are both tortured characters who need someone level and steady. Demyx being serious really set the mood for this chapter, and will do so for the rest of the story at intervals. And 2) I was listening to Running Up That Hill by Placebo over and over during the writing of this chapter. It's a very emotional song for me, and I tend to inject my feelings into what I'm doing at the moment of feeling said emotion, so this turned out depressing, tortured, serious, and creepy in a way. Please review and tell me what you liked or didn't like, I really would appreciate it. I don't own anything but the song lyrics in this chapter, which are my own. ~Salem**

**Chapter Five: Zexion's POV**

I was being kidnapped by the very person who had ruined my day.

As this freaking idiot dragged me along, I tried everything I could think of to get him to let go of me. Anything to let go of me.

Most of it involved profanity and threats, both of which blew past him easily, but I wasn't about to start begging.

Finally, he stopped in front of a very tall, very skinny, teal-blue house, but still didn't let go. He was surprisingly strong, and I could fell his cold fingers around my wrist sending a small twinge of pain up my arm.

"Will you let go of my arm? You're hurting me, " I said flatly, the pain really not being the problem. I hated it when people touched me. The idiot turned to stare at me, his ocean-blue eyes full of questions.

"If you come inside with me, I promise to let go, " he said. I stared back in disbelief, his eyes meeting mine steadily.

"Damn..." I breathed, looking away. This kid was going to be the death of me.

The idiot let go of my wrist, even though I hadn't really given him an answer. He walked up to the front door of his house, stopping when he reached it. Looking back over his shoulder, he _smirked_, and went inside, leaving the door partially open.

I stood frozen to the sidewalk. He fucking _smirked_ at me. The cocky bastard. It was like he knew I was going to follow him. Like he...trusted me.

I shook my head, banning that thought from my mind. I didn't like that word, trust. It opened you up for hurt. And I wasn't exactly the most trustworthy person out there. I glared down at the pavement, wondering what to do.

I could run away. I should run away. Run back home. But...why? What awaited me there? Were dark rooms, scarce food, and a drunken, violent father better than following him?

I heaved yet another sigh, and, against everything I was telling myself, walked slowly into this idiot's house.

The front room was very neat and orderly, decorated in muted colors and faded, kitschy patterns. A low, cushioned chair and tiered end table separated the room, one side a living room, the other a dark and classy dining room with a glass-topped table for four and a windowseat overflowing with green plants. Beyond that, I could catch a glimpse of an off-white kitchen.

No idiot, however.

I shut the front door behind me softly, and was wondering what I should do next when a very quiet guitar strum caught my attention. I perked up, listening carefully. Another strum came, and then another, each one soft as a whisper.

I sighed, thinking vaguely that exhaling so much probably wasn't good for me, and began to search for the source of the music.

Being nowhere on the first floor, I meandered up the stairs, the guitar getting louder. I hummed in frustration when it wasn't on the second floor either. I could still hear it, pinpointing it to be above me, but not seeing anymore stairs.

Then, I noticed a plain door simply adorned with a blue and purple tassel on the handle standing slightly ajar. Gentle guitar music floated from it lazily. I pushed it the rest of the way open to reveal a hidden set of stairs.

I went up cautiously, fingering the many band posters that overlapped each other on the walls. I recognized a few, others were ones I hadn't heard of, and still others were in foreign languages.

I paused in front of the door at the top of the stairs. In the dim light, I could make out autographed pictures and posters, all tacked up around a brass number 9 on the light blue wood.

I almost didn't do it. I almost didn't open that door. My mind was screaming at me to turn around and go home to where I at least knew what would happen. Here was unpredictable, here was not safe. I placed my hand on the doorknob, the cold metal biting against my skin. I took a deep breath, and while I told myself no, I opened the door.

The idiot's room was almost enough to get me to stop calling him an idiot.

Done in soft tones of blue and silver, it held a mysterious and sleepy feel with an underlying hint of electricity. The slanted ceiling held even more band posters, concert tickets, and glow-in-the-dark stars. Translucent, rubber jellyfish dangled from invisible strings like mystical mobiles. Powder-grey plush carpet covered the floor, thick and springy. A dresser made of dark wood commanded the corner to my right, the top cluttered with cologne bottles and Final Fantasy action figures. An open laptop hummed contentedly to my left on a small, rickety computer stand, a dark blue swivel chair crouching before it. Sheer, navy-blue curtains swayed in the slight breeze that twirled through the open window. I took this all in silently, unable to say a word.

Finally, my gaze came to rest upon the twin bed next to the window, the puffy aquamarine comforter made neatly. Demyx lounged on top, a shiny blue guitar in his hands, playing it absently as he stared out the window. The chords seemed to be coming to him as easily as breathing. I crossed my arms over my chest defensively as he glanced at me briefly, still strumming.

It was murderously tense for a moment, the guitar nearly hypnotic. Then,

"You should come sit down. Here, beside me."

I stiffened.

"Is that an order, Your Highness?" I snapped, thrown off by his mood. It was kind of creepy, seeing him so serious so suddenly. He'd been jumping in puddles just a bit before, happy as a clam. Now he seemed too intense. Almost...dangerous.

He shrugged.

"Probably. You seem like the type who'd enjoy being ordered around, " he murmured, hitting the nail on the head. I was a horrible masochist. I shifted my weight around, deciding.

Damn him.

I dropped my bag on the floor, not caring if he cared, and practically threw myself onto the bed beside the idiot with a huff. He chuckled.

"There's a love, " he said. "Do you like music?"

I drew my knees up to my chest, not looking at him.

"Sure, stupid."

He allowed himself a grin before he began to sing softly along to the guitar.

_Does your road ever end?_

_Do you pass your dreams_

_Again, and again?_

_How many paths do I have to take?_

_Until you realize these words aren't fake?_

I felt my body grow tense, and I fixed my gaze on a light purple jellyfish that swirled around and around on its string.

_I want you to crawl inside, _

_I want to give you a safer place to hide,_

_I want you to have a better sight of things,_

_I want to be your pair of wings._

I stared at the jellyfish, willing myself to become numb. I didn't need to feel. I was ice.

_It's the deep of you that cries,_

_It's that deep I want to find,_

_As you push away all that's kind,_

_I want to get inside your mind._

Everything, everyone, all my happiness and emotion was simply an illusion...a mere shadow of what it once was. All of it...

Demyx stopped suddenly, and strange little hiccuping sounds replaced the sound of his guitar and mellow voice. It took me a minute to realize they were coming from me.

I felt chilly fingers brush my hair away from my face, warm breath evaporating the tears on my cheeks.

"Zexion..." he whispered, so very close to me, saying my name like the others before him. _Let me in,_ that always meant. _Let me in so I can hurt you and make you mine-a possession._

I inhaled shakily and sniffed, rendered speechless for fear of screaming. I rubbed away the traitorous tears harshly, angry that I had allowed myself to show emotion so openly. Demyx set down his guitar, and took my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.

"Please...don't touch me..." I choked, my breath hitching. My thoughts flashed to the first time I had let someone come so close to me. His fingers had been warm and callous from the daily burns he received. His breath had been cinnamon scented, and his poison green eyes had held a needy expression. He had showered me with love, and it had been too much. Much too much. I hated him because he loved me so much.

"Hey..."

I looked at Demyx through salty tears, brought back to the present. His fingers were cold and slightly calloused from unforgiving guitar strings. The warm breath that washed over me was lime and mint scented, and the deep ocean-blue eyes that were trained on mine so intently held the soft emotion of concern and confusion. I cut back a sob as I thought, _what makes him so special? Why am I not pulling away? Why did I follow him? _

He rubbed the tears off my face gently, pursing his lips slightly. I shivered, more tears replacing the ones he had wiped away. This idiot, this freak, this person who had cracked my safety shield, who had gotten under my skin, into my mind. This person who had made me cry. Somehow, I didn't hate him. A little thought crept into my head.

_What if he's different? What if he's worth it? What if this isn't all an illusion?_

Demyx took a deep, shaky breath, looking as unsure of himself as I felt.

"My name's Demyx, " he breathed. "Not stupid..."

He leaned in closer, and pressed his lips to mine softly, effectively freezing me in place. Not knowing what to do, I closed my eyes and gave in, just like all those times before. I had nowhere to go, so I let him do what he wanted.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, and I opened my eyes.

"When...when you asked...what I was thinking about earlier..." I whispered after a careful moment, "I was actually...thinking of how much...I want to hate you..."

Demyx didn't say anything as he wiped away another tear from my face.

"But...I can't, and that...bothers me, " I continued, still receiving no response from him. He remained silent, his cold hands still cradling my face. It was beginning to scare me, his lack of emotion and reaction to what I was saying.

"Please say something, " I begged breathlessly, reaching up with one hand to touch his shoulder, as if to make sure he was still there. "Please...you've broken me...it's the least you can do..."

Demyx looked away, a flicker of indecisiveness running across his features.

"Do you hate me?" He asked softly, and I felt his shoulder tense under my fingers, as if he expected a rebuking.

I thought about that. Did I? I hated everyone else. So did I hate him, too? Did I want to? Did I have a choice?

"I don't...think so..." I answered, so quietly that I nearly mouthed the words. A tiny smile lit up Demyx's face, and he ran his hands down my neck to rest on my shoulders, pulling me forward into a tight hug.

"If you ever start to, let me know, " he murmured, "And I'll leave you alone."

And with those simple words, I was captured. Allowing a smile to spread across my face for the first time in a very long time, I returned the embrace of the only person who'd ever given me a choice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Demyx's POV**

Zexion stayed the night that night. We talked about silly things that didn't matter, shirking the earlier events that occurred, and I saw him smile for the first time-a crooked, shy grin that brought life to his empty face.

I told him about my band back home, and I discovered that he, too, played guitar. He told me about the time he got to meet Alice Cooper, sparking a musical preference discussion during which I found out that we liked a lot of the same groups. We listened to music and sipped soda. We eventually crashed, falling asleep next to each other haphazardly on my bed.

I awoke before Zexion did, shaking the fuzzy feeling from my head and yawning. I sat up and stretched, gazing up at my ceiling thoughtfully.

Zexion had been much easier to break than Zanzi, which I welcomed as a good thing, but where was I going to go from here? Just the fact that it had moved so fast made all of this extremely awkward. I didn't know where I wanted to take this.

I heard a rustling beside me, and then a groan. I looked down at a sleepy Zexion who gazed up at me blearily.

"How much pop did I have last night?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Oh, three or four of 'em, " I answered, gesturing to the empty cans on the floor. He grimaced, and snaked his arms around my waist, burying his face in my hip. I froze, kind of shocked by his sudden clinging, when he was so distant before.

"...I've got a caffeine hangover, " he mumbled, his hot breath on my leg sending a shiver up my spine. I petted his hair apologetically.

It was quiet for a little bit, and I could've sworn he fell back asleep, but then he shifted, placing his head on top of my thigh. Cue another shiver, this one stronger. I took a deep, shaky breath, and stared pointedly at a grotesque band poster. I wasn't about to succumb to a boner with his head so close to my crotch.


End file.
